


April 7th

by Hubris_BNL



Series: The Adventures of Aaron Burr [4]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-06-01 13:30:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6521743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hubris_BNL/pseuds/Hubris_BNL
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's an anniversary for Aaron, though not one he particularly enjoys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	April 7th

The date was April 7th and Aaron Burr refused to leave his room.

James had woken up that morning, surprised that his little roommate was nowhere to be found. Aaron was always up first, attempting to shove as many books as he could into his backpack before rushing off to class an hour early. James had grown used to this morning ritual and was worried when the boy wasn’t in the kitchen.

“Aaron?” he called out, checking his watch. Maybe Aaron had gone before he had woken up.

He thought it best to check his room to make sure. Crossing the dorm, James reached out to open Aaron’s bedroom door to make sure he wasn’t, for some reason, still asleep. He turned the knob, creaking the door open and peaking inside.

“Aaron?” James called again, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement. He figured that, yes the boy was still inside, and that something seemed to be wrong.

There was no sound from inside however, but James knew that Aaron was in there and he was beginning to get incredibly worried. This wasn’t like Aaron at all; he’d never not gone to class, at least not by his own choice.

“Aaron is something wrong?”

Still silence. Madison opened the door wider, stepping into the room and looking around. At first look, it didn’t seem that Aaron was there, but then he noticed something moving in the corner of the room by the window.

It was a large quilt covering a very Aaron shaped figure huddled in the corner. James let out a breath, glad that he’d found the boy, but still worried about what had caused this. Taking another step further into the room, James stood in front of the bundled figure on the floor before crouching down.

“Aaron?”

The figure moved, attempting to shuffle back farther against the wall, but there was nowhere else to go. James sighed and sat down, legs crossed, propping his head up with his hand.

“Aaron, what’s wrong?”

Nothing. James reaches over and lifts up the quilt somewhat so that he can actually see Aaron. What he sees elicits another pitying sigh. Aaron’s knees are pulled up to his chin, his arms wrapped tightly around his legs and his face is distressingly somber. There are no tears in his eyes, but the dead look in them is even worse.

James notices that there’s something clutched in his hands, what looks like a photo. James is slow in taking it, brushing his hand against Aaron’s in a reassuring gesture. When Aaron doesn’t move, he brushes his fingers against the photo, the boy still doesn’t move.

Finally James is able to lose it from Aaron’s tight grip and look at it. It is indeed a photo, one of a beautiful woman holding a small boy. They are smiling, laughing; a spark in the little boy’s eyes. Aaron’s eyes.

“She died eleven years ago today.” Aaron said in a very small voice, he was looking up at James with tired eyes.

James watched the boy curl tighter in on himself. Then, moving slowly, Madison shuffled forward so that eventually, he was sitting next to Burr on the floor.

“They’re both gone,” he continued, “I’ve got no one left.”

James had never asked much about Aaron’s family life or the situation surrounding his parent’s deaths. He found it a very touchy topic, one he didn’t know much about, since he seemed to have an abundance of family. He couldn’t imagine how alone Aaron felt.

He was surprised, however, to feel Aaron leaning against him, his head on Madison’s shoulder. He smiled slightly, reaching an arm around the boy’s shoulders, pulling him gently closer.

“Grandfather told me never to cry, that tears make less of a man.” His voice was steady, years of having it drilled into him had left him dry of any outward emotion.

“Your grandfather sounds like a sweetheart.” James said jokingly and was awarded a small laugh from the boy beside him.

They sat together like that for a while, Aaron’s head against James’ shoulder, moving with each breath Madison took, taking comfort in the close contact as he tried to gain control over himself again. This day had always been difficult for him. At least when his father had died, he’d had his mother, but when she died he had nothing.

James held up the photo, looking at it again, then down at Aaron.

“She’s beautiful.” He said simply. Aaron felt a small swell of pride in his chest.

“She was a genius.” He smiled, staring at his mother.

“I guess you’re just like her then, huh?”

How was it that James always knew exactly what to say? Aaron had to smile; he was just like her and his father too. He was honored to carry on the traditions of his family. As long as he did so, they’d never be truly gone.

“Thanks James.”

James nodded in acknowledgment, handing the picture back to Aaron, who clutched it tight in his hands.

“Hey, if it would make you feel any better, I’ve got family to spare. Why don’t you take my 8 siblings?”

Aaron laughed. His grandfather had told him that tears made less of a man. Maybe he had been right. Why would he waste days with tears when he could smile instead? With this in mind, Aaron learned to smile more. It would be many years before he finally allowed himself the luxury of tears.

**Author's Note:**

> Another prompt for some hurt/comfort tiny aaron. Sorry if its a little short.  
> If you have requests or just wanna talk, hit me up @hamilanne


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